GIFT  OF 


RELATIVES 

BEING  FURTHER  VERSES  TRANSLATED 
FROM  THE   SANSKRIT 


BY 

ARTHUR  WILLIAM  RYDER 

TRANSLATOR  OF 

Women 's  Eyes  :  Kalidasa  :    The  Little  Clay  Cart 
Twenty-Two  Goblins 


For  a  self-conceited  modish  life, 
made  up  of  trifles,  clinging  to  a 
corporeal  civilization,  hating  ideas, 
there  is  no  remedy  like  the  Oriental 
largeness. — EMERSON. 


SAN    FRANCISCO 

A.  M.  ROBERTSON 

MCMXIX 


COPYRIGHT,  1919 

BY 
A.  M.  ROBERTSON 


TO   MY  FRIEND 

LEON  JOSIAH  RICHARDSON 

DIRECTOR,   MILITARY    BUREAU 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Six  things  are  done  by  friends: 
To  take^  and  give  again; 

To  listen ,  and  to  talk-, 
To  dine,  to  entertain. 

From  the  PANCHATANTRA 


-I 


INTRODUCTION 

This  volume  is  in  some  sense  a  sequel  to  the  'poems 
from  the  Sanskrit  presented  under  the  title  "Women's 
Eyes". 

The  present  collection  has  less  unity.  Almost  all 
of  the  verses  of  "Women  s  Eyes"  were  translated 
from  Bhartrihari)  the  greatest  Indian  writer  of 
verse  epigrams.  The  verses  here  presented  are  from 
many  sources^  and  the  selections  are  of  very  different 
length  and  date.  The  only  bond  of  union  is  this  — 
that  these  poems  are  all  taken  from  the  ancient 
Sanskrit  language^  and  all  seemed  to  the  translator 
worthy  of  an  English  rendering. 

The  oldest  selection  is  the  satirical  Hymn  to  Faith-> 
which  is  found  in  the  Rigveda,  and  may  have  been 
composed  more  than  a  thousand  years  before  the  be 
ginning  of  the  Christian  era.  The  latest  is  the 
Thief  s  Song)  written  in  Kashmir  in  the  eleventh 
century  A.  D.  There  are  selections  from  Maha- 
bharata  and  Ramayana^  the  two  great  epics  whose 


INTRODUCTION 

beginnings  precede  by  centuries  the  birth  of  Christ. 
There  are  poems  by  Bhartrihari  and  Kalidasa,  poets 
for  whom  the  date  500  A.  D.  is  convenient,  though 
probably  only  approximate.  There  are  bits  from  the 
two  fable  books,  Hitopadesha  and  Panchatantra, 
whose  material  is  much  more  ancient  than  their 
present  form. 

I  have  striven  faithfully  for  a  literal  rendering. 
Though  a  rendering  into  verse  cannot  be  quite  as 
close  as  a  prose  version,  there  are,  in  the  shorter 
pieces  and  in  the  Thief  s  Song,  no  wilful  additions 
or  subtractions.  In  the  longer  narrative  selections 
some  condensation  seemed  desirable ;  here,  too,  noth 
ing  is  added. 

I  am  under  obligations  to  the  University  of  Cali 
fornia  Chronicle  for  permission  to  reprint  certain 
verses  which  first  appeared  in  its  pages. 

ARTHUR  W.  RYDER 
BERKELEY,  CALIFORNIA 

September  20,  1919 


CONTENTS 

Page 

RELATIVES 1 

A  RULE  OF  LIFE 3 

THE  PERVERSITY  OF  FATE 3 

THE  SLAVE  TO  HER  MASTER 4 

A  FAITHFUL  FRIEND 5 

A  FAITHLESS  FRIEND 5 

FRIENDSHIP'S  BROTHERS 6 

HEEDLESSNESS 6 

OLD  AGE 7 

THE  CHESS-GAME 7 

MANU  AND  THE  FISH 8 

THOUGHTS  ON  HAVING  ONE'S  WIFE  STOLEN  BY  A  GIANT 15 

THE  FORTUNATE  FOOL 18 

FORESIGHT  18 

A  PRAYER 19 

PROXIES 19 

SIMPLE  JUSTICE 20 

ONE  FATE  OF  Two 21 

GENTLENESS    21 

POT-EAR'S  AWAKENING 22 

FORTITUDE 38 

HYMN  TO  FAITH 42 

WIPE  OUT  DELUSION 43 

LIFE 44 

How  LONG,  O  LORD? 44 


CONTENTS 

Page 

LITERARY  CRITICISM 45 

A  JOY  FOREVER 45 

HOSPITALITY  46 

HE  CAN'T  STAND  PROSPERITY 46 

No  NEED  OF  BOASTING 47 

DRONA'S  DEATH 48 

THE  THIRSTY  FOOL 52 

PESSIMISM  53 

OPTIMISM 54 

THE  THIEF'S  SONG 56 

THE  STRENUOUS  LIFE .'. 69 

A  SINGLE  GRAB 69 

ART  IN  A  PUPIL 70 

FATALISM  70 

EXTRAVAGANCE  .". 71 

NATURE 72 

YOUR  NATURE 72 

PREACHING 73 

DEAD  LOVE.... 74 

HEAVEN  ABOVE  AND  HEAVEN  BELOW 75 

THE  BAD  SON 75 

ENTER  INTO  THY  CLOSET 76 

TRY  AGAIN 76 

THE  BLESSING  OF  SILENCE 77 

SIMPLE  DEER-HORN 78 

PEACE 89 

VISION 90 

I  LOVE  THE  WOODS 91 

No  COMPROMISE 92 

CAUSE  AND  EFFECT 93 


CONTENTS 

Page 

NATURAL  BEAUTY 94 

WOMAN'S  WEAPONS 94 

THE  FAILURE  OF  EDUCATION 95 

A  NEGLECTED  EDUCATION 96 

YAYATI'S  SONG 97 

GOOD-BYE  TO  SPRING 98 

USE  THE  ROD 99 

LITTLE  CHILDREN 99 

STRIKE    100 

WHY  MEN  FIGHT 101 

AFTER  LIFE'S  FITFUL  FEVER 102 

THE  INTELLIGENT  CORPSE 103 

WISDOM'S  SOUP ..  104 


RELATIVES 

RELATIVES 

From  the  RAMAYANA 

I  saw  some  great,  wild  elephants  who 

Were  gathered  in  a  ring; 
They  saw  some  men  with  a  lassoo, 

And  they  began  to  sing: 

We  fear  no  fire  nor  goad  nor  sling, 
Nor  any  man  that  lives; 
We  do  not  fear  a  single  thing 
Except  our  relatives. 

For  relatives  are  selfish,  mean, 

And  always  setting  traps : 
We  understand  what  we  have  seen; 

Perhaps  we  know  —  PERHAPS. 

Girls  give  us  hopes,  too  often  vain; 

Cows  give  us  tallow  grease; 
Our  relatives  give  us  a  pain ; 

The  clergy  give  us  peace. 


RELATIVES 


A  thirsty  bee  will  kiss  a  flower, 
And  then  extract  the  honey; 

A  relative  will  praise  your  power, 
And  carry  off  your  money. 

An  elephant  will  bathe  his  skin, 
Then  dust  it  till  it's  black; 

A  relative  will  praise  his  kin, 
And  stab  them  in  the  back. 

We  fear  no  fire  nor  goad  nor  sling, 

Nor  any  man  that  lives; 
We  do  not  fear  a  single  thing 

Except  our  relatives/' 


RELATIVES 


A  RULE  OF  LIFE 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 


To  wealth  and  wisdom  give  your  days, 

Like  one  whom  age  and  death  would  spare; 

Yet  hourly  walk  in  righteous  ways, 
As  if  Death  had  you  by  the  hair. 


THE  PERVERSITY  OF  FATE 

From  the  ANTHOLOGY 

I  see  a  dog,  but  not  a  stone; 

I  find  a  stone,  the  dog  is  flown; 

If  dog  and  stone  at  once  I  view, 

The  king's  dog!      Damn!     What  can  I  do? 


RELATIVES 

THE  SLAVE  TO  HER  MASTER 

From  KALIDASA'S  MALAVIKA 

My  love  is  all  in  vain ; 
Bid  hope  depart, 
My  heart! 

Yet  thrills  in  me  again 
What  will  not  bear 
Despair. 

Beloved,  give  to  me 
The  joy  unknown 
Alone; 

For  slavery  keeps  from  thee, 
Lord  of  my  life! 
Thy  wife. 


RELATIVES 

A  FAITHFUL  FRIEND 

From  KALIDASA'S  MALAVIKA 

To  bring  hard  matters  to  an  end, 
One  needs  to  have  a  faithful  friend: 
To  see  an  object  in  the  night, 
Even  eyes  must  have  a  candle's  light. 


A  FAITHLESS  FRIEND 

From  the  PANCHATANTRA 

Whoever  trusts  a  faithless  friend 
And  twice  in  him  believes, 

Lays  hold  on  death  as  willingly 
As  when  a  mule  conceives. 


RELATIVES 

FRIENDSHIP'S  BROTHERS 

From  the  PANCHATANTRA 

To  give  us  birth  we  need  a  mother; 

For  second  birth  we  need  another: 
And  friendship's  brothers  seem  by  far 

More  dear  than  natural  brothers  are. 


HEEDLESSNESS 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Old  age,  an  awful  tigress,  growls: 
And  shafts  of  sickness  pierce  the  bowels; 
Life's  water  trickles  from  its  jar  — 
'Tis  strange  how  thoughtless  people  are. 


RELATIVES 


OLD  AGE 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Gone  long  ago  are  they  who  gave  us  birth; 
Old  friends  are  memories  upon  this  earth ; 
Our  lives  are  undermined  and  daily  sink, 
Like  trees  upon  the  river's  sandy  brink. 


THE  CHESS-GAME 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Where  there  were  scattered  pieces  on  the  board, 

There  now  is  one; 
Next,  many  slaughtered  pieces  are  restored, 

Then  all  are  gone: 
The  dice  are  day  and  night;  the  board  is  life; 

Time  and  again 
Death  plays  a  fearful  chess-game  with  his  wife  — 

The  pawns  are  men. 


RELATIVES 


MANU  AND  THE  FISH 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

I 

There  was  a  gentle,  holy  sage 
Named  Manu,  in  a  former  age. 
The  woes  of  life  he  would  not  blink; 
For  many  years  he  did  not  wink. 

With  ragged  clothes  and  frowsy  hair 
He  lived  beside  a  stream.     And  there 
He  saw  a  fish  who  thus  began 
To  speak  to  him.      "O  holy  man, 

I  am  a  little  fish,  you  see; 
And  bigger  fishes  frighten  me. 
For  bigger  fishes  eat  the  small ; 
It  is  their  nature,  once  for  all. 

So  dreadful  terror  weighs  me  down ; 
Besides,  I  fear  that  I  shall  drown. 
Then  save  me.     Some  day  I  will  do 
An  equal  favor,  sir,  to  you/' 
8 


RELATIVES 


II 

So  Manu,  when  he  heard  his  wish, 
Stretched  forth  a  hand,  and  took  the  fish, 
And  dropped  him  in  a  water-jar 
That  was  as  bright  as  moonbeams  are. 

And  in  the  jar  the  little  fish 
Had  everything  his  heart  could  wish. 
He  grew  and  thrived  on  food  and  fun, 
For  Manu  loved  him  like  a  son. 

At  last  he  grew  too  big  by  far 

To  live  within  the  water-jar. 

He  said:   "  Good  Manu,  I  would  thank 

You  very  kindly  for  a  tank." 

So  Manu  took  him  to  a  tank 
Eight  miles  in  breadth  from  bank  to  bank, 
And  twice  as  long.     There,  free  from  fears, 
He  lived  and  grew  for  many  years. 


RELATIVES 


III 

And  when  he  grew  too  big  to  play 
There  in  a  comfortable  way, 
He  said  to  Manu:  "  Pray  deliver, 
And  put  me  in  the  Ganges  River. 

And  I  will  never  show  you  spite, 
But  some  day  help  you,  as  is  right. 
My  growth  has  not  been  selfish;  it 
Has  happened  for  your  benefit." 

Kind  Manu,  anxious  to  deliver 
His  friend,  went  to  the  Ganges  River, 
And  left  him  happy.     As  before 
He  grew  in  time  a  little  more. 

And  then  he  said  to  Manu:  "Dear, 
I  can  no  longer  wiggle  here. 
My  holy  friend,  be  good  to  me, 
And  take  me  quickly  to  the  sea. " 


10 


RELATIVES 


So  Manu  took  him  tenderly 
And  travelled  quickly  to  the  sea. 
The  fish  tried  not  to  weigh  too  much, 
And  to  be  nice  to  smell  and  touch. 


IV 

The  fish,  when  he  had  reached  the  ocean, 
Smiled  at  his  holy  friend' s  devotion, 
And  said:   "O  kind  and  holy  man, 
You  do  as  much  as  fathers  can. 

And  now  'tis  time  for  me  to  do 
A  little  something,  dear,  for  you. 
For  you  must  know,  my  holy  friend, 
The  world  is  hastening  to  its  end. 

A  dreadful  time  is  near  at  hand 
For  all  the  things  that  move  or  stand; 
There  comes  a  flood  that  has  no  bound, 
And  everybody  will  be  drowned. 


11 


RELATIVES 


So  build  a  ship  and  build  it  strong: 
Put  ropes  on  board  both  stout  and  long. 
And  one  thing  further  you  will  need, 
Neat  packages  of  every  seed. 

Embark  then  with  the  seven  seers, 
And  wait,  good  Manu,  free  from  fears, 
Until  I  come.     And  you  will  see 
A  horn  upon  the  head  of  me. 

Till  then,  farewell.      Do  not  delay. 
The  danger  grows  from  day  to  day." 


V 

Then  Manu  packed  most  carefully 
The  seeds,  and  straightway  put  to  sea. 
His  good  ship  gently  rose  and  fell 
Upon  the  ocean's  mighty  swell. 

He  longed  to  see  the  friendly  fish, 
Who  came  in  answer  to  the  wish. 
He  seemed  a  floating  mountain  dread; 
A  horn  was  growing  on  his  head. 
12 


RELATIVES 


So  Manu,  feeling  less  forlorn, 
Fastened  a  rope  about  the  horn, 
And  felt  the  ship  glide  speedily 
Over  the  dancing,  salty  sea. 

But  when  the  wind  began  to  roar 
And  ocean  thundered  more  and  more, 
The  tossing,  shaken  ship  began 
To  stagger  like  a  drunken  man. 

No  land  remained  to  cheer  them  there, 
But  only  water,  sky,  and  air; 
No  life  through  all  those  many  years 
Save  Manu,  fish,  and  seven  seers. 

But  Manu,  all  those  many  years, 
Went  sailing  with  the  seven  seers; 
The  fish  pulled  on  with  might  and  main 
And  did  not  weary  nor  complain. 

At  last  he  did,  however,  stop 
Beside  the  highest  mountain-top, 
And  bade  them  tie  the  ship;  and  they 
Call  it  Ship  Mountain  to  this  day. 
13 


RELATIVES 


VI 

And  then,  with  wide,  unwinking  eyes, 
The  fish,  to  \lanu' s  great  surprise, 
Declared :   '  *  I  saved  the  seven  seers 
From  death  and  agonizing  fears; 

For  I  am  Brahma.     And  my  friend, 
Kind  Manu,  who  has  seen  the  end 
Of  all  the  world,  shall  make  again 
Gods,  devils,  animals,  and  men. " 

And  so  he  disappeared.     But  they, 
Amazed,  departed  on  their  way, 
While  kindly  Manu  made  again 
Gods,  devils,  animals,  and  men. 

Now  all  have  heard  who  had  the  wish 
The  tale  of  Manu  and  the  fish. 
And  everyone  who  takes  it  in, 
Shall  be  forever  free  from  sin. 


14 


RELATIVES 


THOUGHTS  ON  HAVING  ONE'S  WIFE 
STOLEN  BY  A  GIANT 

From  the  RAMAYANA.     This  is  the  lament  of  the  hero  Rama,  when 
his  wife  Sita  is  carried  away  by  Ravan,  the  giant  king  of  Ceylon. 

They  say  that  as  the  seasons  move, 

Our  sorrow  gently  fades  away; 
But  I  am  far  from  her  I  love 

And  sorrow  deepens  every  day. 

That  she  is  gone,  is  not  my  woe; 

That  she  was  reft,  is  not  my  pain ; 
The  thought  that  agonizes  so 

Is  this;  her  youth  is  spent  in  vain. 

Blow,  breezes,  blow  to  her  dear  face; 

Blow  back  to  me  her  kisses  sweet: 
Through  you  we  taste  a  glad  embrace, 

And  in  the  moon  our  glances  meet. 

When  she  was  torn  away  from  me, 

My  lord !  My  love ! ' '  was  all  her  cry, 
Which  tortures  me  incessantly; 
My  heart  is  poisoned,  and  I  die. 
15 


RELATIVES 


1  burn  upon  an  awful  pyre ; 

My  body  wastes  by  day  and  night; 
Her  loss  is  fuel  to  feed  the  fire 

That  burns  so  pitilessly  white. 

If  I  could  leave  each  loving  friend, 
Could  sink  beneath  the  sea,  and  sleep, 

Perhaps  the  fire  of  love  would  end, 
If  I  could  slumber  in  the  deep. 

One  thought  consoles  my  worst  distress; 

Through  this  I  live :  I  cannot  die 
While  she  lies  down  in  loveliness 

Upon  the  self-same  earth  as  I. 

The  sun-parched  rice,  no  longer  wet, 
Lives  on,  while  earth  her  moisture  gives; 

The  root  of  love  supports  me  yet, 
For  they  have  told  me  that  she  lives. 

Though  giants  hem  her  round,  yet  soon 
She  shall  be  freed,  and  shall  arise 

As  radiantly  as  the  moon 

From  clouds  that  darken  autumn  skies. 

16 


RELATIVES 


When  shall  I  pierce  the  giant's  breast 
With  shafts  that  suck  his  life  away, 

That  give  my  tortured  darling  rest 
And  all  her  absent  griefs  allay? 

When  shall  I  feel  the  close  embrace 
Of  my  good  goddess,  as  in  dreams? 

When  kiss  her  smile,  while  on  her  face 
The  water  born  of  gladness  gleams? 

When  shall  I  pluck  from  out  my  heart  — 
A  heart  by  woes  of  absence  torn  — 

The  pain  of  life  from  love  apart, 
Forget  it,  like  a  garment  worn? 


17 


RELATIVES 

THE  FORTUNATE  FOOL 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

God  to  the  fool  a  way  has  shown, 
A  way  unfailing,  all  his  own, 

To  hide  his  lack  of  sense; 
For  each,  however  great  a  fool, 
Among  the  wise  may  wear  the  jewel 

Called  Silence. 


FORESIGHT 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

From  loving  girls,  ye  wise,  refrain; 
'Tis  little  pleasure,  longer  pain. 
But  love  three  females  none  the  less, 
Compassion,  Wisdom,  Friendliness. 
For  swelling  breasts  of  lovely  girls, 
Trembling  beneath  their  strings  of  pearls, 
And  hips  with  jingling  girdles  —  well, 
They  do  not  help  you  much  in  hell. 


18 


RELATIVES 
PROXIES 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 


When  righteous  acts  must  needs  be  done, 
When  time  of  service  has  begun, 

In  caring  for  the  servant  crowd, 
In  the  begetting  of  a  son, 

No  proxies  are  allowed. 


A  PRAYER 

From  BHARTRIHARI 


O  father  wind,  friend  light,  and  earth  my  mother! 
O  kinsman  water,  heaven's  space  my  brother! 

I  bow,  I  pray:  with  you  in  union  blest 
May  I  be  good,  in  brightest  wisdom  smother 

The  dark,  and  sink  at  last  in  God  to  rest. 


19 


RELATIVES 

SIMPLE  JUSTICE 

From  AMARU 

If,  maiden  of  the  lotus  eye, 

Your  anger  hurts  you  so, 
'Tis  right  you  should  not  let  it  die, 

You  hardly  could,  you  know. 

But  once  I  gave  you  an  embrace, 
To  keep  it  would  be  pain; 

And  once  I  kissed  your  willing  face, 
Give  me  that  kiss  again. 


20 


RELATIVES 

ONE  FATE  OF  TWO 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

One  fate  of  two  for  the  jasmine  flower, 
The  same  for  the  wise  and  good; 

To  shine  at  the  head  of  all  the.  world, 
Or  to  wither  in  the  wood. 


GENTLENESS 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

To  gentleness  the  ruffians  bend, 
And  gentlefolk  no  less; 

It  moves  relentless  to  its  end  — 
So  fierce  is  gentleness. 


21 


RELATIVES 


POT-EAR'S  AWAKENING 

From  the  RAMAYANA.  When  the  giant  citadel  in  Ceylon  was  in 
vested  by  Rama  and  his  army,  the  giant  king  determined  to  call 
to  his  assistance  his  most  redoubtable  subject,  Pot-ear.  This 
giant  was  normally  awake  only  one  day  every  six  months.  He 
must  therefore  be  awakened  before  he  can  employ  his  great 
strength  and  courage  in  the  giant  cause. 

I 

They  started  forth,  the  giant  band 
Obedient  to  their  king's  command, 
With  flesh  and  blood  as  tempting  food, 
With  wreaths  and  perfumes,  sweet  and  good. 

And  so  they  came  to  Pot-ear' s  door, 
Where  stretched  the  cave  a  league  and  more 
On  every  side,  where  blossoms  sweet 
Poured  fragrance  forth,  a  guest  to  greet. 

And  all  that  mighty  giant  band 
Before  his  snoring  scarce  could  stand; 
They  tottered,  but  with  spirit  brave 
They  fought  their  way  into  the  cave. 


22 


RELATIVES 


There  Pot-ear  stretched  this  way  and  that 
Just  like  a  mountain  tumbled  flat, 
Hideous  in  his  slumber  deep, 
For  he  was  very  sound  asleep. 

They  saw  him  bristle,  saw  him  shake; 
They  heard  him  hissing  like  a  snake; 
They  felt  his  breathing  like  a  storm 
That  blew  them  from  his  ugly  form. 

They  saw  his  nostrils  sink  and  swell, 
His  throat  that  yawned  like  gates  of  hell; 
The  dreadful,  sprawling  form  they  saw 
That  smelt  of  dinners  eaten  raw. 

They  made  a  mountain  of  the  food 
That  they  had  brought,  so  sweet  and  good; 
Beside  his  bed  the  mountain  rose 
Of  deer  and  boars  and  buffaloes. 

They  grasped  their  trumpets  glittering  bright 
As  moonbeams  shining  in  the  night; 
Impatiently  they  blew  and  blew, 
And  screamed  and  howled  and  shouted,  too. 

23 


RELATIVES 


Through  all  the  tumult  loud  and  deep 
Pot-ear  lay  snoring,  fast  asleep; 
They  saw  he  did  not  mind  their  clamor 
And  seized  a  stone,  or  club,  or  hammer. 

They  tumbled  boulders  on  his  chest, 
To  see  if  they  could  break  his  rest. 
They  beat  a  hundred  rub-a-dubs 
With  fists  and  hammers,  bars  and  clubs. 

The  only  answer  was  a  snore 
A  little  deeper  than  before 
That  blew  away  the  giant  band; 
Before  his  breath  they  could  not  stand. 

More  sternly  yet  the  giants  strove: 

With  sticks  and  whips  and  goads  they  drove 

Horses  and  elephants  abreast, 

Asses  and  camels  on  his  chest. 

They  clubbed  and  pounded  without  pity, 
Until  the  tumult  filled  the  city; 
They  made  the  woods  and  mountains  shake, 
But  giant  Pot-ear  would  not  wake. 

24 


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Then  anger  filled  each  giant  breast; 
They  swore  that  they  would  break  his  rest. 
One  last  attack  they  made  at  length 
With  all  their  might  and  wrath  and  strength. 

And  there  were  some  to  beat  the  drum, 
While  screamed  and  howled  and  shouted  some; 
Some  bit  his  ears,  while  some  would  tear 
Away  great  handfuls  of  his  hair. 

A  hundred  water-pots  they  poured 
Into  his  ears,  and  still  he  snored; 
They  could  not  shake  his  slumber  deep; 
Pot-ear  was  very  sound  asleep. 

Some  took  a  hammer  or  a  club, 
With  all  their  might  began  to  drub 
Upon  his  chest  and  limbs  and  head 
To  wake  him  from  his  drowsy  bed. 

They  tied  great,  spiky  stones  to  ropes 
And  dragged  them  over  him;  their  hopes 
Were  disappointed  still;  for  he 
Slept  on  with  peaceful  dignity. 
25 


RELATIVES 


But  when  a  thousand  elephants 
Upon  his  chest  began  to  dance, 
Then  Pot-ear,  gently  tickled,  broke 
From  bonds  of  slumber,  and  awoke. 

He  did  not  heed  the  falling  stones 
Or  clubs  that  rattled  on  his  bones, 
But  yawned  and  raised  himself  to  see 
What  breakfast  might  provided  be. 

The  giants  pointed  to  the  food 

That  they  had  brought,  so  sweet  and  good; 

Then  Pot-ear  in  his  might  arose 

And  ate  some  boars  and  buffaloes. 


II 

Now  when  the  meat,  with  wine  afloat, 
Had  vanished  down  his  mighty  throat, 
Dull  Pot-ear  shook  his  heavy  head, 
And  rolled  his  sleepy  eyes,  and  said ; 

26 


RELATIVES 


Great  matters  surely  are  at  stake, 
Or  I  should  hardly  be  awake; 
And  for  our  giant  king,  I  will 
Cool  fire  or  overturn  a  hill 

But  tell  me  why  I  am  awake; 
Surely  great  matters  are  at  stake." 
Then  giant  Post-eye  bent  him  low 
And  humbly  answered:  "  Pot-ear,  know 

That  neither  gods  nor  devils  can 
Affright  us  —  but  we  fear  a  man. 
He  leads  his  mountainous  apes  across 
The  strait,  for  grief  at  Sita's  loss. 

One  ape  has  burned  our  splendid  town 
And  he  has  struck  Prince  Aksha  down. 
While  Ravan,  heaven's  scourge  and  thorn, 
Has  been  by  Rama  overborne 

In  single  fight,  and  has  been  spared  — 
A  thing  no  god  or  devil  dared." 
Then  Pot-ear  rolled  his  eyes,  and  said : 
Well,  I  v/ill  strike  the  monkeys  dead, 
27 


RELATIVES 


With  Lakshman  and  with  Rama,  and 
Before  our  king  as  victor  stand. 
And  monkey  flesh  and  blood  shall  be 
Your  food  —  the  blood  of  men  for  me." 

So  Pot-ear,  rising,  took  a  cup 
And  drank,  to  keep  his  courage  up; 
He  drank  two  thousand  jars  of  wine, 
And  washed  his  face,  and  made  it  shine. 

Eager,  excited,  haughty,  proud, 
He  towered  above  the  giant  crowd; 
And  as  he  strode  his  king  to  greet, 
Earth  trembled  underneath  his  feet. 


Ill 

On,  to  his  brother's  proud  abode, 
Half-drunk  with  sleep  and  wine,  he  strode; 
Red-eyed  with  wrath,  he  bowed  him  low, 
And  asked;  "Why  was  I  wakened  so? 

28 


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What  danger  threatens,  or  what  ill? 
Whom  would  you  like  to  have  me  kill?" 
And  Ravan,  maddened  by  his  wrong, 
Said:       Brother,  you  have  slept  too  long; 

So  all  the  wickedness  and  woe 
That  Rama  works,  you  do  not  know; 
How  he  has  built  a  bridge,  and  crossed 
The  channel  with  a  monkey  host. 

Behold  their  strangely  hideous  shapes! 
See  Lanka's  groves,  one  sea  of  apes! 
They  kill  our  bravest  when  we  fight; 
For  who  can  conquer  monkey  might? 

Ah,  brother,  save  your  stricken  nation, 
Your  king  reduced  to  supplication; 
You  know  I  love  you  and  adore  you; 
I  know  how  devils  flee  before  you. 

So,  if  you  have  a  warrior's  might, 
Or  if  you  love  your  brother,  fight! 
Or  if  you  would  not  sulk  apart 
While  trouble  makes  me  sad  at  heart. 
29 


VJMf 


RELATIVES 


He  only  is  a  friend  indeed 

Who  aids  his  sinful  friend  in  need, 

Who  indefatigably  gives 

A  helping  hand  to  relatives. " 


IV 

Then  Pot-ear  felt  his  brother's  woe, 
And  answered  softly,  soothing,  slow: 
' '  In  battle' s  forefront  I  will  slay 
Rama,  and  chase  his  apes  away. 

Yes,  I  would  drink  the  sea,  eat  fire, 
Slay  Death  himself,  should  you  desire; 
Would  crush  the  mountains,  pierce  the  earth, 
Smite  sun  and  stars,  to  bring  you  mirth, 

And  food  to  me.     I  sleep  so  long 
And  grow  so  hungry  and  so  strong 
That  earth  and  heaven  and  hell  would  be 
A  not  too  bounteous  meal  for  me. 
30 


RELATIVES 


Rejoice,  and  let  your  heart  incline 
To  every  pleasure  rare  and  fine, 
And  murmur,  as  you  sip  your  wine 
Sita  is  mine,  forever  mine'." 


V 

So  Ravan,  knowing  Pot-ear's  might, 
Rejoiced,  and  felt  his  heart  grow  light; 
While  Pot-ear  grasped,  his  foe  to  strike, 
His  trusty,  gold-bespangled  pike  — 

The  pike  that  gods  and  devils  feared, 
Made  of  black  iron,  in  spots  besmeared 
With  many  a  stain  and  blotch  of  red, 
By  foemen's  blood  contributed. 

Then,  maddened  by  the  reek  of  blood, 
To  the  great  city  wall  he  strode, 
While  flowers  and  prayers  upon  him  fell, 
And  drums  and  trumpets  wished  him  well. 
31 


RELATIVES 


And  there  he  paused  and  spoke :  * '  To-day 
Shall  all  the  monkeys  fade  away 
Like  moths  in  flame.     I  would  not  care 
To  hurt  them  in  their  forest  lair; 

Indeed,  the  species  often  proves 
Quite  ornamental  in  our  groves; 
But  Rama  is  the  cause  of  all 
Our  woe;  so  he  and  his  must  fall.' ' 

He  spoke,  nor  heeded  signs  of  ill 
That  waited  on  his  footsteps  still  — 
The  sky  as  red  as  asses'  skin, 
The  clouds  with  lightning  mingled  in, 

The  jackals  spitting  fire  on  high, 
The  throbbing  arm,  the  twitching  eye, 
The  vulture  on  his  pike-staff  croaking, 
The  thunderbolt  before  him  smoking. 

He  heeded  not,  but  leaped  the  wall, 
Obeying  thus  the  certain  call 
Of  Death;  and  straight  the  monkey  crowds 
Scattered  and  fled  like  riven  clouds. 
32 


RELATIVES 


But  Angad  called:  "  Why  would  you  flee 
Like  apes  of  mean  or  no  degree? 
Return  and  prove  your  valor:  thus 
He  shall  not  prove  a  match  for  us. ' ' 

Ashamed,  they  seized  upon  great  boulders 
Or  lifted  trees  upon  their  shoulders; 
The  trees  were  splintered,  striking  him; 
Rocks  split  upon  his  every  limb. 

While  underneath  his  blows  they  bled 
And  swooned  and  died,  or  turned  and  fled; 
Till  Angad  called  them  back  to  fight, 
Reproving  thus  their  shameless  flight: 

Why  save  your  lives?     Why  run  away? 
What  will  the  monkey  women  say? 
For  high-born  monkeys  may  not  flee 
Like  vulgar  apes  of  no  degree. 


And  if  we  fight  our  best  and  die, 
We  win  a  hero's  home  on  high; 
If  victory  should  crown  our  worth, 
We  win  a  hero's  name  on  earth. 
33 


RELATIVES 


"  But  life  is  dear  to  us:"  they  said, 
"  And  Pot-ear  quickly  strikes  us  dead." 
Yet,  rallying  to  their  prince' s  name, 
They  fought  once  more  for  very  shame. 


VI 

They  sought  for  courage  in  despair: 
For  wounds  and  death  they  did  not  care 
Nor  for  their  scores  and  hundreds    slain 
And  eaten  on  the  battle-plain. 

Then  great  Hanuman  hurled  a  shower 
Of  boulders,  using  all  his  power; 
But  Pot-ear  answered  with  a  blow 
From  that  fierce  pike,  that  laid  him  low. 

The  mountain  crag  that  Nila  hurled 
He  caught,  as  through  the  air  it  whirled, 
And  powdered  it,  till  sparks  and  flame 
Forth  from  the  tortured  missile  came. 
34 


RELATIVES 


Then  monkeys  by  the  thousand  poured 
Upon  him,  bit  and  tore  and  roared; 
Even  as  they  clawed  and  gashed  and  smote, 
They  vanished  in  their  hell,  his  throat. 

"  With  Rama  only  will  I  fight, " 
Cried  Pot-ear:  "then  will  put  to  flight, 
When  he  is  dead,  your  warriors  all;" 
And  Rama  answered  Pot-ear's  call 

With  shafts  that  pierced  his  shaggy  chest; 
Then,  spitting  fire,  with  bleeding  breast, 
He  charged,  but  from  his  weakened  hand 
The  weapons  dropped  upon  the  sand. 

Yet  with  bare,  weakened  hands  he  slew 
Two  hundred  monkeys  as  they  flew 
Upon  him;  then,  with  tempest-shock 
He  hurled  a  craggy,  ponderous  rock 

At  Rama,  who  evaded  it, 
While  Pot-ear,  in  a  foaming  fit, 
Turned,  licking  bloody  chops,  and  slew 
Of  monkey  warriors  not  a  few. 
35 


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And  hoarsely  laughing,  shouted  so : 
"  Rama,  I  am  no  common  foe 
Like  those  that  you  have  slain;  this  club 
With  which  I  have  been  wont  to  drub 

The  gods  and  devils,  you  shall  feel 
As  it  prepares  you  for  my  meal. " 
An  answering  arrow  cut  away 
The  right  arm  and  the  club.     They  lay 

Immense.     A  second  arrow  sped 
And  shore  away  his  bleeding  head, 
Which  tumbled,  grinning  horribly, 
Among  the  fishes  in  the  sea. 

Then  choirs  of  heaven  praised  the  might 
Of  Rama  in  that  dreadful  fight; 
And  monkey  faces  blossomed  bright 
Like  lilies  in  the  glad  sun-light. 


VII 

But  in  the  city  Ravan  kept 
A  tortured  vigil,  moaned  and  wept: 

36 


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"Ah,  Pot-ear!  Source  of  all  my  hope  and  gladness! 

Where  are  you  flown, 
Leaving  unplucked  your  brother's  thorn  of  sadness, 

Dying  alone? 

My  right  arm  were  you;  you  I  trusted  only, 

Death's  match!     And  can 
The  tamer  of  high  gods  be  sleeping  lonely, 

Slain  by  a  man  ? 

The  gods  rejoice,  forgetting  all  their  anguish; 

Foes  not  a  few 
Soon  will  assail  the  fortress  where  I  languish, 

Grieving  for  you. 

I  am  no  king,  nor  Sita's  lover  longer  — 

Till  I  shall  give 
Battle  to  Rama,  prove  myself  the  stronger, 

Vainly  I  live. 

And  should  it  be  his  lot  to  slay  another, 

Gladly  I  die; 
Beside  the  headless  form  that  was  my  brother, 

There  let  me  lie." 
37 


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FORTITUDE 

From  the  MAHABHARATA.     This  is  the  consolation  offered  to  those 
who  have  lost  kinsmen  in  the  great  epic  war 

All  gathering  ends  in  dissipation; 

All  heaps,  at  last,  must  fall; 
All  friendships  melt  in  separation; 

And  death  at  last  ends  all. 

The  coward  dies,  the  hero  lives 

A  space,  but  none  pass  by 
The  appointed  days  that  heaven  gives  — 

Then  let  us  fighting  die. 

All  lives  begin  from  nothingness, 

Stir  for  a  time,  and  then 
(No  cause  for  grief)  sink  into  less 

Than  nothingness  again. 

Death  has  no  enemy  nor  friend; 

Each  in  his  turn  must  pass, 
Must  helpless  to  that  bidding  bend 

As  wind-blown  blades  of  grass. 
38 


RELATIVES 


Our  goal  is  —  there.     And  every  day 

The  one  long  caravan 
Moves  on  with  death  to  point  the  way. 

Why  should  it  grieve  a  man? 

For  all  the  saints  and  scholars  old 

Since  first  the  world  began 
Are  gone,  with  every  fighter  bold. 

Why  should  it  grieve  a  man? 

The  fighter  slain  attains  to  heaven; 

The  other  wins  the  fight; 
To  each  is  much  advantage  given; 

Fighting  is  good  and  right. 

And  God,  who  loves  a  fighting  man, 

Hailing  a  welcome  guest, 
Prepares  with  all  the  care  he  can, 

A  seat  among  the  blest. 

Oh,  trust  yourself,  and  spare  your  tears 
For  those  who  fell  in  strife ; 

Not  all  your  sorrow,  pain,  and  fears 
Can  bring  the  dead  to  life. 
39 


RELATIVES 


Hundreds  of  parents,  sons,  and  wives 

Loved  you  with  passion  true; 
Gone  are  the  loves  of  former  lives  — 

What  do  they  mean  to  you? 

Time  makes  us  win  our  strength,  and  keep; 

Time  tells  us  when  to  die; 
Time  is  awake  when  others  sleep; 

Time  passes  no  man  by. 

Youth  vanishes,  and  beauty,  wealth, 

And  love  and  friendship  die 
With  life  itself  and  living  health ; 

But  wise  men  do  not  cry. 

They  do  not  cry,  but  fight;  and  then 

Forget  their  former  woes; 
For  pain  forgotten  is  not  pain, 

But  pain  remembered,  grows. 

This  wisdom  heals  the  heart's  dull  woes 

As  herbs  the  body's  pain; 
When  palliating  wisdom  grows, 

We  are  not  children  then. 
40 


RELATIVES 


One  thing  remains  of  all  our  loves, 
Our  wealth  and  honors  won  — 

The  character  that  onward  moves, 
The  deeds  that  we  have  done. 

Man  has  no  enemy  nor  friend 

Except  himself;  alone 
He  knows  what  deeds  to  virtue  tend, 

What  seeds  of  sin  are  sown 


41 


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HYMN  TO  FAITH 

From  the  RIGVEDA 

By  Faith  the  holy  fire  is  lit, 

And  sung  the  liturgy; 
We  pray  to  Faith  with  all  our  wit 

For  prosperous  piety. 

Give  wealth,  O  Faith,  to  me  who  give 

Such  worship  as  I  can; 
Make  me  respected,  make  me  live 

A  rich,  religious  man. 

The  gods  have  faith  from  imps,  I  see; 

For  what  they  will,  they  can; 
Enlarge  my  prosperous  piety 

As  a  rich,  religious  man. 

Gods  worship  Faith,  and  pious  men 

Must  worship  every  hour; 
If  faith  first  fills  our  bosoms,  then 

Faith  gives  us  wealth  and  power. 
42 


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We  call  on  Faith  by  morning's  light, 

On  -Faith  in  glare  of  day, 
On  Faith  when  evening  sinks  to  night 

O  Faith,  give  faith  to  pray! 


WIPE  OUT  DELUSION 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Wipe  out  delusion,  O  my  soul! 

Seek  peace  in  Shiva  ever; 
Dwell  on  the  banks  whereunder  roll 

Floods  of  the  sacred  river; 

Who  trusts  in  waves  that  break  and  crash, 

In  bonfires'  flaming  flakes, 
In  bubble  or  in  lightning-flash, 

In  women,  streams,  or  snakes? 


RELATIVES 


LIFE 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Here  is  the  sound  of  lutes,  and  there  are  screams  and 

wailing; 

Here  winsome  girls,  there  bodies  old  and  failing; 
Here  scholars'  talk,  there  drunkards'  mad  commotion  • 
Is  life  a  nectared  or  a  poisoned  potion? 


HOW  LONG,  O  LORD  ? 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Alone,  without  desire,  at  rest, 
In  atmosphere  of  heaven  drest, 
My  hand  for  spoon,  when  shall  I  be, 
O  Shiva,  God !  from  karma  free  ? 


44 


RELATIVES 


LITERARY  CRITICISM 

From  KALIDASA'S  MALAVIKA 

Established  fame  is  not  enough; 
Not  all  the  new  is  wretched  stuff. 
The  wise  approve  where'er  they  may; 
The  fools  repeat  what  critics  say. 


A  JOY  FOREVER 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

The  poet-kings  who  know  the  art 

To  touch  the  chord  that  moves  the  heart, 

Secure  may  draw  their  breath; 
Far  from  the  body  of  their  fame  apart 

Lurk  fears  of  age  and  death. 


45 


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HOSPITALITY 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

A  mat  of  straw  upon  the  floor, 
Water,  and  kindly  words  as  well: 

These  things  at  least,  if  nothing  more, 
Are  always  found  where  good  men  dwell. 


HE  CAN  'T  STAND  PROSPERITY 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

The  man  who  does  not  steel  his  heart 

To  evil  fates  and  fair, 
Is  crumbled  by  prosperity 

Like  unbaked  earthenware. 


46 


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NO  NEED  OF  BOASTING     y^ 

From  the  MAHABHAKATA 

The  wise  who  conquer  cities  vast, 
Win  wealth  untold,  and  call 

The  mighty  earth  their  own,  are  not 
Disposed  to  boast  at  all. 

The  fire  cooks  silently;  the  sun 
Shines,  but  he  does  not  talk; 

The  dumb  earth  bears  all  moving  things 
And  all  that  do  not  walk 


47 


RELATIVES 


DRONA' S  DEATH 

From  the  MAHABHARATA.  Drona  is  the  eighty-year  old  hero 
who  had  instructed  the  heroes  of  both  the  opposing  armies  in  the 
use  of  arms. 

While  Drona  led  the  Kuru  van, 
The  Pandu  army  to  a  man 
Was  beaten  back  and  strove  in  vain 
To  dominate  the  battle-plain. 

Where  tramp  and  clash  of  battle  grew 
Like  crackling  flames  in  dry  bamboo, 
There  Drona  blazed,  a  smokeless  fire 
That  fed  on  death  and  mounted  higher. 

Where  aged  Drona's  arrows  passed, 
Horse,  man,  and  tusker  breathed  their  last. 
Like  hissing  snakes  his  arrows  sped 
And  left  a  trail  of  reeking  red. 

The  Pandu  army  fought  in  vain 
Against  him.     They  had  all  been  slain, 
Had  not  they  striven  to  beguile 
Their  foe  with  false  and  wicked  wile. 

48    ' 


RELATIVES 


For  Bhima  cried  aloud  and  said : 

"  Old  man,  your  son  is  stark  and  dead. 

As  silly  simpletons  will  fight 
For  wife  and  child  and  money  bright, 
So  you  have  fought  —  and  all  for  one, 
Your  dearly  loved,  your  only  son; 

Who  studied  in  the  school  of  strife, 
And  paid  his  lesson  with  his  life. 
Dead  on  the  plain  his  body  lies 
A  prey  to  all  that  creeps  and  flies." 

The  father  heard  the  lie,  and  slow 

His  hand  released  the  fatal  bow; 

He  sank,  yet  roused  himself  again 

In  one  strong  cry:  "  Fight  on,  my  men! 

Destroy  the  treacherous  Pandu  line, 
But  hope  no  more  for  aid  of  mine. 
All  hatred  dies  from  out  my  breast; 
Remains  religion's  peaceful  rest." 


49 


RELATIVES 


His  foe  believed  the  Brahman's  word 
And  darted  with  uplifted  sword 
To  pierce  him  through,  while  all  the  men 
And  all  the  horses  shrieked  in  pain. 

But  Drona,  in  ecstatic  prayer, 
Knew  not  his  foe  was  standing  there; 
Wrapped  in  inviolable  fire, 
He  thought  on  God  with  pure  desire. 

We  saw  his  lifted  face;  we  heard 
His  murmuring  lips  pronounce  the  word 
1  *  Amen!"   We  felt  him  pray;  at  last 
We  knew  his  hero  soul  had  passed. 

For  while  his  body  tumbled  dead, 
A  flame  flashed  from  his  cloven  head; 
His  soul  flew  in  the  flame  above 
To  dwell  with  God  in  deathless  love. 

There  were  but  five  of  mortal  birth 
Who  saw  his  spirit  leave  the  earth; 
Who  heard  the  choirs  of  angels  sing 
Divinely  in  their  welcoming; 
50 


RELATIVES 


Saw  heaven's  everlasting  fire 
Flash  out,  and  flicker,  and  expire; 
And  knew  that  he  was  with  the  saints 
Where  God's  love  wearies  not  nor  faints. 

But  all  could  see  the  bloody  corse, 
By  arrows  torn  and  trampling  horse; 
All  sorrowed  for  the  evil  done 
Save  one  insatiate  foe  alone, 

Who  scorned  our  hero's  eighty  years 
And  scant  hair  gray  behind  the  ears; 
He  hacked  the  body  from  the  head, 
To  show  his  hatred  for  the  dead. 

And  all  the  army  fled  away; 
Where  Drona  died,  they  could  not  stay; 
But  Drona' s  spirit  dwells  on  high 
Among  the  stars  that  light  the  sky. 


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RELATIVES 

THE  THIRSTY  FOOL 

From  the  KATHASARITSAGARA 

A  thirsty  fool  had  labored  much 

To  reach  a  river  fair; 
Then  would  not  drink,  perceiving  such 

A  lot  of  water  there. 

"  Why  do  n't  you  drink?"   A  neighbor  cried 

Who  saw  the  thing  befall; 
"  How  can  I?"   Simpleton  replied; 

"I  couldn't  drink  it  all." 

"  Suppose  you  leave  a  little  bit," 

Said  neighbor,  "  Do  you  think 
The  king  would  punish  you  for  it?" 

The  booby  would  not  drink. 

Just  like  a  fool!      He  sees  a  thing 

That  terrifies  his  heart; 
He  loses  time  in  dallying, 

And  never  gets  a  start. 


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RELATIVES 


PESSIMISM 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

Our  happiness  is  past;  a  curse 
On  sin  and  lack  of  truth ! 

Yet  each  tomorrow  will  be  worse, 
For  earth  has  lost  her  youth. 

Fraud  and  illusion  crowd  the  time; 

Conduct  and  virtue  flee; 
Religion  seeks  a  happier  clime  — 

The  worst  is  yet  to  be. 


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RELATIVES 


,  OPTIMISM 

From  the  RAMAYANA 

Toward  Death  we  move  with  every  breath ; 

Death  dogs  us  every  day; 
However  far  we  journey,  Death 

Is  never  far  away. 

We  laugh  to  see  the  rising  sun, 

And  laugh  to  see  him  set; 
Nor  think  that  when  the  day  is  done, 

Our  days  are  fewer  yet. 

Our  hearts  are  warm  to  each  new  spring, 

Each  summer,  winter,  fall; 
But  what  the  passing  seasons  bring 

Is  only  Death  to  all. 


* 


As  log  collides  with  log  upon 
The  sea,  and  parts  again, 

So  friend  and  gold  and  wife  and  son 
Love  and  abandon  men. 
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RELATIVES 


As  if  a  traveler  should  meet 

A  hurrying  caravan, 
And  say:    "I  too  with  willing  feet 

Will  follow  as  I  can/' 

So  to  the  long  parade  we  cleave 
That  with  the  world  began : 

Then  do  not  grieve,  you  cannot  leave 
The  social  caravan. 

The  hours  of  youth  grow  ever  less; 

No  river  climbs  the  hill; 
Then  turn  your  thoughts  to  happiness, 

Which  is  your  portion  still. 


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RELATIVES 


THE  THIEF'S  SONG 

The  CHAURA-PANCHASHIKA  of  the  poet  Bilhana,  who  lived  in 
Kashmir  in  the  eleventh  century.  The  thief  has  stolen  a  princess' 
heart,  and  has  been  thrown  into  prison,  on  the  discovery  of  the 
intrigue,  by  the  irate  father.  While  awaiting  the  king's  pleasure, 
he  writes  his  song,  which  comes  to  the  royal  ear,  procuring  him 
liberty  and  the  legitimation  of  his  love.  The  verbal  trick  of  the 
translation  is  found  also  in  the  Sanskrit. 

As  then  she  was,  I  think  of  her  today : 

The  face  that  blossomed  as  she  woke  from  sleep, 

The  slender  waist,  the  golden  champaks  gay, 
The  self-surrendering  love;  and  I  must  weep 
For  magic  happiness  I  could  not  keep. 

If  I  could  see  her  once  again  today, 
Fair  as  the  moon,  as  beautifully  pale, 

Full-bosomed,  love-sick,  bearing  queenly  sway 
O'er  youth  and  charm,  that  only  would  avail 
To  heal  my  fever,  and  to  make  me  hale. 

If  I  could  see  her  lotus-eyes  today, 

The  breast  that  into  sloping  shoulders  slips, 

Would  I  not  clasp  her  in  my  arms  straightway 
And  drink  the  maddening  honey  of  her  lips, 
Drunk  like  the  bee  that  from  the  lotus  sips! 
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RELATIVES 


In  prison  I  remember  her  today : 

Dark  curls  against  the  pallor  of  her  cheek; 

The  soft  resistance  as  she  strove  to  stay 

My  eager  love  with  arms  around  my  neck  — 
Yet  shamed,  and  even  in  her  resisting,  meek. 

Awaiting  death,  I  think  of  her  today: 

Of  her  sweet  face,  her  timid,  downward  glance, 

Her  eyes  that  in  their  restlessness  betray 

The  madness  of  love's  long  and  waking  trance  — 
Queen-swan  among  love's  flowering  lily-plants! 

If  I  could  see  her  in  my  cell  today, 

If  arms  that  yearn  for  her  could  but  receive  her, 

My  best  of  love  should  comfort  her,  should  slay 
The  absence  and  the  sorrows  that  bereave  her, 
I'd  close  my  eyes,  and  never,  never  leave  her. 

A  vision  comes  to  comfort  me  today, 

A  slender  form  that  gives  to  dance  a  grace 

Unknown  before  with  beauties  that  obey 
Love's  bidding,  and  a  pale  but  shining  face, 
And  earrings  that  in  air  strange  patterns  trace. 


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RELATIVES 


And  I  remember  in  my  bonds  today, 

How  she,  with  soft,  smooth  sandal  powder  sweet, 

And  musk  diffusing  pungent  perfume,  lay 

Upon  her  couch,  how  arching  brows  would  greet 
Her  lovely  eyes,  like  lips  that  kissing  meet. 

Here,  chained  and  fettered,  I  recall  today, 
The  slender  form,  eyes  veiled  in  modest  fear, 

The  wine-sweet  lips  I  kissed  in  loving  play, 
The  musk,  the  saffron  of  my  own  Kashmir, 
Betel,  and  camphor,  that  to  her  were  dear 

The  crowning  moment  I  recall  today, 
When  all  her  soul  is  given  to  my  lips, 

When,  clad  in  love's  warm,  golden,  glad  array, 
My  darling  from  the  hated  palace  slips, 
Like  to  the  moon  delivered  from  eclipse. 

But  slighter  joys  are  in  my  mind  today, 

How  once  a  lovers'  quarrel  checked  our  glee; 

Then  when  I  sneezed,  the  princess  would  not  say 
"  God  bless  you!"  but  with  silent  coquetry 
Stuck  blossoms  in  her  hair,  to  madden  me. 


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RELATIVES 


Another  picture  visits  me  today: 

The  drops  of  weariness  that  oft  would  seek 

To  make  upon  her  face  a  pearl  inlay 

When  love  had  left  her  pale  and  worn  and  weak) 
The  golden  earring  that  would  fret  her  cheek. 

I  seem  to  see  her  lovely  breast  today, 

The  skirt  that  tripped  her  quick  steps  on  the  floor, 

The  glance  that  modesty  would  lead  astray 

And  love  bring  back  to  me,  the  lips  grown  sore 
Because  I  would  be  kissing  evermore. 

I  seem  to  see  my  princess-bride  today 

Moving  with  swan-like,  undulating  grace, 

And  in  her  hand  a  red  ashoka-spray, 

Pearl  necklace  on  her  breast  in  close  embrace, 
Quick  smiles  that  light  the  pallor  of  her  face. 

I  see  her  gold-bespangled  dress  today 
Held  as  a  frail  defending  shield,  the  pain 

Of  my  too  eager  passion  to  allay, 

Clutched  tightly  as  she  struggles  once  again 
For  very  shame  to  leave  me  —  but  in  vain. 


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Her  golden  bracelets  haunt  my  thoughts  today, 
Her  restless  eyes  that  pierce  a  gloom  like  this 

As  memories  that  none  can  take  away, 

The  teeth  of  pearl,  red  lips,  the  secret  bliss, 

The  wealth  of  hair  that  fresh-picked  blossoms  kiss. 

That  wealth  of  hair  I  seem  to  see  today 

When  ribbons  break  and  flowers  begin  to  fall; 

Then  heaven  is  opened  in  the  dazzling  ray 
Of  her  dear  smile;  at  love's  imperious  call 
We  sink  in  bliss  that  none  may  share  at  all. 

And  I  remember  in  my  cell  today 

How  she  would  come  to  find  me  through  the  night, 

Guided  by  beams  illumining  her  way 

From  lamps  that  glitter  with  a  gem-like  light 

On  her  shamed  face,  and  mine  with  kindness  bright. 

Well  I  remember  thee,  my  love,  today: 
Thy  startled  eyes  as  of  a  gentle  deer, 

Thy  body  wasting  at  the  least  delay 

Of  love,  thy  graceful  gait,  thy  teeth  so  dear  — 
Delights  of  heaven  transplanted  to  Kashmir! 


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RELATIVES 


I  hear  the  echo  of  thy  laugh  today : 
I  see  thy  bosom  quiver  in  sheer  glee; 

I  see  the  necklace,  darting  beams  that  stray 
About  thy  neck;  sure,  Love  has  planted  thee 
Upon  a  hill,  his  bright  flower  flag  to  be ! 

Yes,  I  can  hear  through  dungeon-walls  today 
Sweet  flatteries  of  thine,  when,  soon  or  late. 

Passion  grew  weary  in  its  house  of  clay; 
I  hear  the  parrot  quaintly  imitate, 
Learning  soft  words  to  utter  to  her  mate. 

Even  as  in  prison  I  recall  today 

The  limp,  surrendered  form,  the  luscious  hair, 

The  half-shut  eyes,  the  swanlike,  queenly  play 
In  love's  bright  lotus-pool,  I  cannot  bear, 
In  death  or  life,  to  be  without  her  there. 

If  I  could  see  her  once  again  today 

At  sunset,  see  her  fawnlike,  gracious  eyes, 

If  on  her  heavenly  bosom  I  could  lay 

My  cheek  and  rest  —  oh,  I  should  quite  despise 
The  saint,  the  king,  the  blest  in  Paradise. 


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For  I  remember  fervently  today 

Her  beauty  perfect  in  its  every  part, 

To  which  all  other  lovely  women  pay 

Their  homage,  for  'tis  far  beyond  their  art  — 
Queen  of  love's  drama,  mistress  of  my  heart! 

I  could  not,  if  I  would,  forget  today 

Even  for  a  moment,  such  a  wondrous  wife, 

So  young,  so  helpless  that  she  seems  to  pray 
For  pity,  stabbed  by  love  as  by  a  knife, 
Nearer  than  garments  are,  more  dear  than  life. 

The  vision  of  her  beauty  comes  today 
To  make  all  other  beauty  seem  awry, 

To  shame  the  pride  of  women,  and  to  slay 
Men's  hearts  by  hundreds;  and  I  know  that  I, 
Consumed  by  absent  fires,  shall  surely  die. 

Heroic  wisdom,  teach  me  how  today 

To  act,  to  save   a  life  than  life  more  dear, 

And  deeds  of  heaven's  heroes  to  outweigh; 
For  well  I  know  that  death  is  creeping  near, 
And  for  my  bride,  my  brave,  true  bride,  I  fear. 


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RELATIVES 


My  bride !     And  must  I  think  of  her  today 

With  bright  eyes  dimmed  by  sorrow  and  by  fears, 

With  light  feet  treading  slow  the  future  gray; 
I  hear  her  voice  come  stumblingly  through  tears, 
And  see  her  bowed  by  woe  through  endless  years. 

For  I  have  never  seen,  nor  see  today 

A  face  that  with  my  darling's  could  compare, 

Though  all  the  rival  world  should  challenge.     Nay, 
The  sweetness  of  Love's  wife  is  not  so  rare; 
The  moon  itself  is  not  so  spotless  fair. 

Her  wealth  of  wondrous  hair  I  see  today, 
Her  teeth  of  pearl;  and  I  remember  well 

How  sorrow  in  her  presence  would  not  stay; 
'  How  union  with  my  bride  would  ever  spell 
The  bliss  of  heaven;  one  moment's  absence,  hell. 

The  last  grim  moment  I  recall  today 

When  from  her  palace  slaves  that  seemed  to  be 

Resistless  slaves  of  Death,  tore  me  away, 

And  all  her  prayers  for  me  were  vain;  yet  she 
Still  gazed  and  gazed.     That  gaze  still  tortures  me. 


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I  think  with  anguish  of  her  face  today  — 

The  face  that  in  its  beauty  overbore 
The  wonder  of  the  moon's  unclouded  ray  — 

Because  upon  that  face  I  may  not  pore 

Again,  and  yet  again,  and  evermore. 

I  think  of  her,  my  hope  of  life,  today, 

How  she  would  listen  with  her  mind  and  heart 

To  all  I  said.     My  maiden  young  and  gay, 
Thy  youth  was  mine  alone,  thine  artless  art, 
And  shall  be  mine  again,  though  death  us  part. 

And  I  recall  what  I  have  lost  today 

How  she  would  move  in  such  sweet  perfume  clad 

That  bees  would  gather  round  her  cheek  alway; 
The  very  tinkle  that  her  bracelets  had 
When  she  would  fix  her  hair,  will  drive  me  mad. 

And  I  remember  woefully  today 

How  gently  I  would  waken  her,  while  she 

Would  shiver,  and  her  startled  eyes  would  stray, 
Unable  yet  our  love's  new  day  to  see  — 
She  wakes,  starts  back,  then  recognizes  me. 


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RELATIVES 


And  I  recall  another  hour  today 

When,  jealous,  she  would  leave  me.     I  entreat 

Her,  and  she  does  not  turn  her  face  away 

But  weeps  when  kissed.     I  fall  before  her  feet: 
"  Be  gracious  to  thine  humble  servant,  sweet. 

Thou  canst  not  think  that  I  would  fall  today 
In  thy  bed-chamber,  victim  to  the  glance 

Of  others,  I,  the  subject  of  thy  sway  — 
Far  rather  would  I  perish  in  a  trance 
Of  thy  dear  kisses,  playfulness,  and  dance." 

I  wonder,  as  I  think  of  her  today, 

If  she  be  heaven's  queen  come  down  to  earth, 

Or  Shiva's  bride,  or  Vishnu's.      Or  she  may 
Be  God' s  own  thought  of  beauty  in  mortal  birth, 
To  drive  men  mad  with  woman's  perfect  worth. 

There  is  no  man  that  lives  on  earth  today 

Who  could  depict  her;  none  but  me  has  seen 

Such  beauty.      Should  the  king  of  heaven  essay 
The  task,  with  memories  of  his  heavenly  queen, 
He  might  succeed.     None  other  could,  I  ween. 


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RELATIVES 


And  I  remember  in  my  cell  today 

How  she  would  stop  her  ears  in  graceful  fun. 

No  other  face  like  hers  is  lovely.     Yea, 
And  if  her  form  blots  out  beneath  the  sun 
All  other  beauty,  why,  what  harm  is  done? 

No  doubt  her  heavenly  features  keep  today 
The  pallid  splendor  of  the  autumn  moon, 

And  trip  the  saint  on  his  ascetic  way: 

Would  I  might  gain  the  glory  lost  so  soon, 
And  lose  no  more  forever  such  a  boon ! 

Ah,  yes,  if  I  might  plunge  again  today 
Beneath  love' s  waters  that  so  long  I  miss, 

Might  save  love's  lotus-blossom  from  decay 
And  share  with  her  the  heaven  of  a  kiss, 
I '  d  give  my  life  for  one  such  moment's  bliss ! 

Though  lovely  women  walk  the  world  today 
By  tens  of  thousands,  there  is  none  so  fair 

In  all  that  exhibition  and  display 

With  her  most  perfect  beauty  to  compare  — 
This  is  my  consolation,  and  my  care. 


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RELATIVES 


As  then  she  floated,  so  she  floats  today 

A  swan-queen,  down  the  river  of  my  mind 

O'er  waves  that  thrill  beneath  her  plumage  gay; 
She  leaves  my  admiration  far  behind, 
And  flying  dust  of  blossoms  turns  me  blind. 

In  sadness  I  remember  her  today, 

The  daughter  of  my  king,  whom  love  has  driven 

To  me  with  timid,  eager  eyes  —  then  say, 
Was  she  a  goddess,  or  a  nymph  of  heaven, 
Angel,  or  fairy,  to  my  longings  given? 

I  cannot  for  an  hour  forget  today 

From  dawn  until  the  evening  sinks  in  night 

How,  sleeping,  she  would  gather  beauty;  nay, 

Her  form  seemed  slenderer,  her  breast  more  white, 
Her  gems  more  radiant  yet,  by  morning's  light. 

Her  golden  beauty  comes  to  me  today, 

Her  slow,  coquettish  grace,  as  she  would  lie 

In  shamed  humility  upon  her  couch,  would  pray 
For  maddening  love  and  kisses.  Oh,  might  I 
Taste  that  elixir  now,  I  could  not  die. 


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RELATIVES 


I  could  not  die,  might  I  enjoy  today 
That  bliss  so  deep  as  almost  to  be  woe; 

We  hardly  knew  if  it  were  war  or  play, 
So  fiercely  did  we  clasp  each  other,  so 
Fire-hot  with  passion  did  our  faces  glow. 

How  could  I,  after  that,  endure  today 
The  subtlest  fascinations  of  another? 

Far  rather  would  I  end  my  life  straightway; 

Come  quickly,  Death!      Come  as  a  kindly  brother, 
With  one  swift  act  my  spark  of  life  to  smother. 

God  Shiva  has  his  poison  even  today; 
The  ocean  guards  his  awful,  hidden  fire; 

The  tortoise  bears  upon  his  back  alway 
The  burden  of  the  earth.      However  dire 
The  things  they  love,  they  keep  what  they  desire. 


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RELATIVES 


THE  STRENUOUS  LIFE 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

Success  the  strenuous  will  reap, 
And  not  your  pensive  sinner; 

For  when  the  lion  fell  asleep, 
He  had  no  deer  for  dinner. 


A  SINGLE  GRAB 

From  the  PANCHATANTRA 

Remember  that  a  single  grab 
Suffices  for  a  fish  or  crab, 
For  fool  or  woman;  and  'tis  so 
For  sot,  cement,  or  indigo. 


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RELATIVES 


ART  IN  A  PUPIL 

From  Kalidasa's  MALAVIKA 

Art  in  a  pupil  shows 
The  artist  doubly  well; 

The  raindrop  turns  to  pearl 
When  falling  in  a  shell. 


FATALISM 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

What  shall  not  be,  will  never  be; 

What  shall  be,  will  be  so: 
This  tonic  slays  anxiety; 

Taste  it,  and  end  your  woe. 


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RELATIVES 


EXTRAVAGANCE 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

They  cook  their  grain  in  beryl  kettles 

With  fuel  of  sandal-shoots, 
They  plough  with  ploughs  of  precious  metals 

To  get  the  yercum-roots, 
They  make  a  hedge  of  camphor  wood 

About  the  humblest  corn, 
Unhappy  fools!  who  are  not  good 

On  earth  where  they  were  bornJ 


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RELATIVES 


NATURE 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

The  habits  we  acquire  are  little  worth; 
The  nature  that  was  ours  before  our  birth 
Will  master  us,  while  yet  we  live  on  earth. 


YOUR  NATURE 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

Your  nature  is  a  thing  you  cannot  beat; 

It  serves  as  guide  in  everything  you  do : 
Give  a  dog  all  the  meat  that  he  can  eat, 

You  can't  prevent  his  gnawing  at  a  shoe, 


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PREACHING 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

He  longs,  with  twigs  from  lotus -bowers 

To  bind  an  elephant, 
He  strives,  with  softest  siris-flowers 

To  sever  adamant, 
He  yearns,  with  honey-drops  alone 

To  sweeten  ocean's  taint, 
Who  hopes,  with  sugar-coated  tone 

To  make  a  rogue  a  saint. 


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RELATIVES 


DEAD  LOVE 

From  AMARU 

In  early  days,  my  husband,  we 
Were  one  unsevered  entity, 
And  neither  of  the  lovers  knew 
Were  I  the  dearer  half,  or  you. 
Now  you  are  tyrant  of  my  life, 
And  I  am  nothing  but  your  wife. 
Oh,  it  was  hard  as  stone  for  me, 
The  fruit  of  life's  alluring  tree! 


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RELATIVES 

HEAVEN  ABOVE  AND  HEAVEN  BELOW 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Oh,  dwell  by  Ganges'*  holy  wave 

Where  passion's  slave  his  soul  may  lave; 

Or  on  the  bosom  of  a  girl 

Where  strings  of  pearl  would  charm  a  churl. 


THE  BAD  SON 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

What  profits  the  begetting  of  a  son, 
So  he  be  neither  good  nor  wise? 

With  sightless  eyeballs  what  is  to  be  done? 
They  ache  and  yet  they  are  not  eyes. 


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ENTER  INTO  THY  CLOSET 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Although  thou  sink  to  hell,  fly  through  the  air, 
Or  flutter  o'  er  the  earth  and  never  cease, 

Think  not,  my  soul,  to  find  salvation  there: 

Remember  God  at  home,  who  gives  t-hee  peace. 


TRY  AGAIN 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

Do  not  despise  yourself,  my  son, 

For  early  ill-success ; 
For  things  that  were  not,  come  to  be, 

While  things  that  are,  grow  less. 


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RELATIVES 


THE  BLESSING  OF  SILENCE 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 


The  fool  among  the  wise  may  shine 

A  moment,  if  his  dress  be  fine; 

But 

One  moment,  while  his  mouth  is  shut. 


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RELATIVES 


SIMPLE  DEER-HORN 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

I 

Young  Deer-horn  was  a  pious  youth 

Devoted  to  religious  truth, 

A  hermit  innocently  good 

Who  grew  to  manhood  in  the  wood. 

His  mother  left  him  at  his  birth; 
He  only  knew  one  soul  on  earth, 
His  austere  father;  therefore  he 
Grew  up  in  natural  piety. 

Now  in  a  kingdom  near  at  hand 
No  rain  had  fallen  on  the  land, 
Prevented  by  the  magic  skill 
Of  priests  the  king  had  treated  ill. 

An  aged  priest  advised  the  king: 
"  Propitiate  the  clergy;  bring 
Pure-minded  Deer-horn  from  the  wood, 
That  hermit  innocently  good. 
78 


RELATIVES 


He  dwells  in  purity  afar; 
He  does  not  know  what  women  are: 
Fetch  him,  and  then  the  rain  will  fall; 
Of  this  I  have  no  doubt  at  all." 

The  counsel  pleased  the  king;  he  planned 

To  entertain  the  hermit,  and 

Invited  women  of  the  town 

To  go  and  bring  young  Deer-horn  down. 

But  they  refused  the  royal  plan, 
Fearing  to  meet  a  holy  man; 
At  last  an  aged  crone's  ambition 
Drove  her  to  undertake  the  mission. 

"If  you  will  give  me  what  I  ask/' 
She  said,  "I  can  fulfill  the  task; 
But  I  require  a  rich  reward 
Of  gold  and  gems,  my  royal  lord." 

With  royal  bounty  richly  laden, 
She  took  her  child,  a  youthful  maiden 
More  known  as  beautiful  than  good, 
And  so  departed  to  the  wood. 
79 


RELATIVES 


II 

She  waited  till  the  coast  was  clear, 
And  then  she  sent  her  daughter  dear 
To  interview  the  hermit  who 
Had  never  learned  what  women  do. 

The  maiden  found  the  lad  and  said: 
"  I  trust  your  pious  life  is  led 
Without  offence,  and  that  your  food 
Of  roots  and  fruits  is  sweet  and  good. 

I  trust  your  father's  heart  is  blest 
With  deep  religious  peace  and  rest; 
For  I  am  hither  come  to  see 
Your  unpretending  piety." 

And  Deer-horn  answered:  "Sir,  you  are 
As  radiant  as  a  beaming  star; 
I  never  saw  a  man  like  you; 
Then  tell  me,  sir,  what  shall  I  do 
80 


RELATIVES 


To  make  you  happy?     Here  are  roots, 
Water,  a  couch  of  skins,  and  fruits. 
What  vows  are  yours,  most  holy  sage? 
Where  is  your  pious  hermitage?" 

"My  hermitage/'  the  maid  replied, 
"Is  three  long  leagues  from  here,  beside 
The  river;  there  I  practise  now 
A  fearfully  ascetic  vow. 

For  I  have  sworn  that  I  will  greet 
Such  other  hermits  as  I  meet; 
And  I  must  clasp  and  kiss  you  too  — 
So  my  religion  bids  me  do. " 

She  spurned  the  fruits  that  he  had  offered, 
And  in  their  stead  to  him  she  proffered 
Confectionery  sweet  and  good 
That  she  had  brought  into  the  wood. 

She  gave  him  fragrant  garlands  too, 
And  brilliant  garments,  clean  and  new; 
She  offered  wine;  and  while  he  quaffed, 
She  played  and  swayed  and  danced  and  laughed 
81 


RELATIVES 


She  played  about  him  with  a  ball, 
And  oft  coquettishly  would  fall 
Upon  his  bosom,  until  he 
Took  fire  from  her  immodesty. 

|    At  last  she  saw  the  deed  was  done, 
I    That  she  had  charmed  the  hermit's  son; 
\And,  gazing  o'er  her  shoulder,  fled, 
To  make  her  sacrifice,  she  said. 

,  When  she  had  left  him,  peace  and  joy 
Departed  from  the  luckless  boy; 
Sadly  he  sighed,  by  love  distressed, 
An  aching  void  within  his  breast. 

His  father,  while  he  sighed,  returned, 
Whose  eyes  with  fire  ascetic  burned, 
Whose  life  was  one  devoted  prayer, 
Whose  nails  were  overgrown  with  hair. 

When  he  beheld  his  son  distressed 
With  eye  upturned  and  heaving  breast, 
With  longing  written  on  his  face 
And  passion  in  contentment's  place, 
82 


RELATIVES 


"What  troubles  you,  my  dearest  son?" 
He  asked,  "and  are  your  duties  done? 
Who  has  been  here  with  you  today?" 
And  Deer-horn  answered  him  straightway. 


Ill 

"  A  hermit  youth  with  hanging  hair, 
Not  short,  nor  very  tall,  but  fair 
And  bright  as  gold,  with  lotus-eyes, 
Some  child  of  heaven,  wondrous  wise. 

He  came  in  beauty  like  the  sun, 
Black  eyes,  sweet  voice,  his  hair  undone 
And  hanging  soft,  dark,  fragrant,  and 
Encircled  by  a  golden  band. 

f%> 

A  relic  on  his  neck  was  seen 
That  danced  like  flashing  lightnings  keen; 
Below  it,  two  soft  swellings  white 
That  thrilled  me  with  a  strange  delight. 
83 


RELATIVES 


Large  hips  he  had,  but  slender  waist 
Which  I  could  see  was  close  embraced 
By  a  golden  belt;   I  saw  it  shine 
And  it  was  not  at  all  like  mine. 

fihik 

And  on  his  ankles  something  stirred 
That  jingled  like  a  cooing  bird, 
While  on  his  wrist  there  tinkled  free 
A  novel  kind  of  rosary. 

And  as  he  moved,  the  beads  would  sing 
Like  gay  flamingoes  in  the  spring; 
His  pious  robe  was  wondrous  fair, 
And  quite  unlike  the  garb  we  wear. 
>*H 

His  face  was  beautiful  to  see; 
His  speech  was  kind  and  gladdened  me; 
His  voice  was  like  the  nightingale; 
It  made  me  sigh  and  yearn  and  pale. 

And  as  in  spring  the  forest  trees 
Wave  beautifully  in  the  breeze, 
So,  father,  when  the  wind  blew,  he 
Shed  fragrance  like  a  flowering  tree. 
84 


RELATIVES 


His  hermit  locks  —  I  wondered  how 
They  parted  on  his  noble  brow; 
And  dangling  from  each  ear,  there  stirred 
And  danced  what  seemed  a  brilliant  bird. 

A  round,  elastic  fruit  he  had 
That  bounded  from  the  earth  like  mad 
When  he  would  strike  it  merrily  — 
'Twas  very  wonderful  to  see. 


He  moved  and  swayed  with  graceful  ease 
I  thought  of  wind  among  the  trees: 
A  wonderful  delight  and  joy 
Came  when  I  saw  the  godlike  boy.    ^ 

He  held  me  in  a  tight  embrace; 
I  felt  his  hair;  he  pressed  his  face 
Against  my  face  and  made  a  noise 
That  waked  in  me  the  strangest  joys. 

Our  simple  fruits  he  did  not  think 
Were  good,  or  water  that  we  drink; 
He  gave  me  other  fruits  and  rare, 
And  said:    '  This  is  my  humble  fare/ 
85 


RELATIVES 


They  were  not  like  the  fruits  we  eat, 
But  tasted  wonderfully  sweet; 


They  had  a  different  sort  of  skin, 
different  was  the  pulp  within. 


A  strange,  sweet  kind  of  water  he 
Offered  with  noble  piety; 
It  filled  me  with  an  odd  delight, 
And  earth  grew  wobbly  to  my  sight. 

Sweet  garlands  with  a  careless  mirth 
He  wove,  and  scattered  on  the  earth; 
Then,  glorious  as  an  ancient  sage, 
Departed  to  his  hermitage. 


since  he  went,  I  feel  distressed; 
My  limbs  are  burning  and  my  breast; 
I  long  to  go  to  him  today 
Or  have  him  here  with  me  alway. 

Yes,  I  will  tread  the  path  he  trod 
And  learn  the  way  he  worships  God; 
With  him  I  long  to  make  a  trial 
Of  holy  life  and  self-denial. 
86 


RELATIVES 


I  find  no  peace  from  him  apart; 
Religious  yearnings  fill  my  heart. 


IV 

"It  was  a  devil,  dear  my  son; 
By  foes  like  these  we  are  undone; 
They  walk  the  earth  in  conquering  charm 
And  work  religious  men  much  harm. 

They  win  us  with  their  cunning  wiles, 
Their  wondrous  beauty  and  their  smiles, 
Then  show  themselves  as  demons  fell 
And  plunge  us  in  the  pit  of  hell. 

The  man  who  seeks  religious  peace 
Should  keep  himself  from  such  as  these; 
To  ruin  us,  is  their  delight, 
My  pious  boy.     Forget  the  sight. 

And  those  sweet  waters  that  you  had 
Are  tasted  only  by  the  bad; 
And  we  ascetics  never  wear 
A  perfumed  garland  on  our  hair. 
87 


RELATIVES 


Resist  the  devil,  boy;"  he  said 
And  then  he  hunted  for  the  jade; 
Three  days  he  sought  without  success 
And  ceased  for  very  weariness. 

Meantime,  the  tempting  minx  returned, 
And  seeing  her,  young  Deer-horn  burned; 
"  Come  quick,"  he  said,  "  and  let  us  roam; 
You  see  my  father' s  not  at  home. 

Your  hermitage  I  fain  would  view;" 
So,  hand  in  eager  hand,  they  flew 
And  found  a  boat  and  floated  down 
The  river  to  the  royal  town. 

No  sooner  did  the  hermit  gain 
The  royal  palace  than  the  rain 
Fell,  drenching  every  thirsty  part 
And  gladdening  the  sovereign' s  heart. 

The  joyful  monarch  to  the  brave, 
Bewildered  young  ascetic  gave  — 
Lest  he  should  ever  seek  release  — 
A  princess  —  and  her  name  was  Peace. 
88 


RELATIVES 


PEACE 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

I  would  not  call  a  friend  or  foe  mine  own, 
A  gem  or  clod,  a  bed  of  flowers  or  stone, 
A  serpent  or  a  string  of  precious  pearls, 
A  bunch  of  grasses  or  a  bunch  of  girls, 
So  might  I  see  with  calm,  unwavering  eye 
My  peaceful  days  move  softly  gliding  by, 
The  while  I  murmured  in  a  pious  grove 
To  Shiva,  Shiva,  Shiva,  all  my  love. 


89 


RELATIVES 

VISION 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

Who  sees  his  life  in  others'  life, 
In  others'  wealth  a  clod,  a  weed, 

His  mother  in  his  neighbor's  wife, 
He  sees,  he  sees  indeed. 


90 


RELATIVES 


I  LOVE  THE  WOODS 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Girl,  girl !   What  mean  those  tender  glances 
Like  budding  flowers  in  languid  dances? 
Stop,  stop !   Your  art  no  more  entrances. 

I  love  the  woods.     My  childish  madness 

Awakens  memories  of  sadness. 

The  world?     A  straw  brings  equal  gladness. 


91 


RELATIVES 

NO  COMPROMISE 

From  Kalidasa's  MALAVIKA 

Oh,  I  would  have  her  whole, 

Else  leave  her  free; 
Not  clasp  her,  while  her  soul 

Is  not  for  me. 

No,  let  us  rather  die 

Hopeless,  apart, 
If  in  a  lonely  sigh 

Heart  answers  heart. 


92 


RELATIVES 


CAUSE  AND  EFFECT 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

As  knowledge  in  the  just 

Increases  self-distrust; 

In  others,  pride  and  lust  — 

Just  so,  the  saint  will  find 
When  lonely,  peace  of  mind; 
Not  so  the  lovesick  kind. 


93 


RELATIVES 


NATURAL  BEAUTY 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

The  color  on  the  lily's  face 
Is  natural.     So  is  maiden  grace. 
The  bee  flits  vainly  round  the  flower, 
The  fool  round  beauty's  virgin  power. 


WOMAN'S  WEAPONS 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

The  skilfully  coquettish  frown, 
Bashfulness  choking  laughter  down, 
The  love-word  seeming  free  from  guile, 
The  undulating  step,  the  smile  — 
These  things,  to  every  woman  true, 
Are  ornaments,  and  weapons  too. 


94 


RELATIVES 


THE  FAILURE  OF  EDUCATION 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

Uneducated  moths  will  fly 

Into  the  blazing  fire; 
Ignorant  fish  will  take  the  hook 

In  the  bait  of  their  desire. 
And  we  who  know  so  many  things 

Forget  the  price,  and  feed 
The  creeping  lusts  that  coil  us  round  — 

Oh!   We  are  fools  indeed. 


95 


RELATIVES 


A  NEGLECTED  EDUCATION 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

Alas,  my  foolish,  foolish  boy, 

Whose  nights  are  spent  in  thoughtless  joy, 

Among  the  wise  as  ill  you  stand, 

As  some  poor  cow  in  boggy  land. 


RELATIVES 


YAY ATI'S  SONG 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

Desire  is  never  satisfied 

By  winning  each  desire; 
As  fuel,  added  to  the  blaze, 

Gluts  not  the  hungry  fire. 

Not  all  the  barley  in  the  world 

And  rice  and  gold  and  kine 
And  women,  are  enough  for  one  — 

Remember,  and  resign. 

For  when  our  longings  and  our  sins 

Toward  every  creature  cease, 
When  deed  and  thought  and  word  are  pure, 

We  find  eternal  peace. 

When  all  things  lose  their  fear  of  us, 

And  when  we  find  release 
From  fear  of  them,  and  hate,  and  hope, 

We  have  eternal  peace. 


RELATIVES 


GOOD-BYE  TO  SPRING 

From  Kalidasa's  MALAVIKA 

The  mango  trees  are  bending 
Beneath  the  fruits  they  bring; 

The  amaranths  are  spending 
Their  flowers  with  lavish  fling; 

The  heart  of  youth  is  sending 
A  sad  good-bye  to  spring. 


98 


RELATIVES 


USE  THE  ROD 

From  the  ANTHOLOGY 


The  youngsters  nowadays  run  wild 
From  petting;  whipping  makes  them  mild, 

And  therefore  I  would  never  pet 
But  whip  a  pupil  or  a  child. 


LITTLE  CHILDREN 

From  Kaliclasa's  SHAKUNTALA 

They  show  their  little  buds  of  teeth 
In  peals  of  causeless  laughter; 

They  hide  their  trustful  heads  beneath 
Your  heart.     And  stumbling  after 

Come  sweet,  unmeaning  sounds  that  sing 

To  you.     The  father  warms 
And  loves  the  very  dirt  they  bring 

Upon  their  little  forms. 


99 


RELATIVES 


STRIKE 

From  the  HITOPADESHA 

Fear  fearful  things,  while  yet 
No  fearful  thing  appears; 

When  dangers  must  be  met, 
Strike,  and  forget  your  fears. 

When  all  his  safety  lies 
In  fighting,  blow  for  blow, 

The  wise  man  fights  and  dies, 
And  with  him  dies  his  foe. 


100 


RELATIVES 

WHY  MEN  FIGHT 
From  BHARTRIHARI 

Perhaps  the  warrior,  smitten  by  his  foe, 

Will  rise  to  heaven  and  leave  the  world  below; 

Perhaps  the  fighting  is  its  own  reward; 
No  god  has  told  us  and  we  do  not  know. 

We  only  know  that  the  applauding  beat 
Of  eager  hands,  the  joyous  shouts  that  greet 

The  sturdy  fighter  from  his  foes  and  friends, 
Are  music  in  his  ears,  and  very  sweet. 


OF- 

CALIFORNIA 


101 


RELATIVES 


AFTER  LIFE'S  FITFUL  FEVER 

From  BHARTRIHARI 

My  mind  no  longer  loves  philosophy 
No  longer  seeks  delight  in  poetry, 
Contemns  the  paths  of  doubt  so  often  trod, 
And  yearns  to  be  united  with  its  God. 


102 


RELATIVES 

THE  INTELLIGENT  CORPSE 

From   BHARTRIHARI 

A  beggar  in  the  graveyard  cried :  * 
"  Awake,  my  friend,  be  satisfied 
To  live  again  and  bear  the  weight 
Of  poverty;  for  I  of  late 
Am  weary  grown;  my  heart  is  led 
To  crave  the  comfort  of  the  dead." 
The  corpse  was  silent;  he  was  sure 
'  Twas  better  to  be  dead  than  poor. 


103 


RELATIVES 

WISDOM'S  SOUP 

From  the  MAHABHARATA 

A  scholar  who  can  merely  quote 
Unmastered  learning  got  by  rote, 
Is  erudition's  luckless  dupe, 
A  spoon  to  ladle  wisdom's  soup. 

The  fool  who  hears  but  cannot  prize 
The  wisdom  of  the  truly  wise, 
He  too  is  erudition's  dupe, 
A  spoon  to  ladle  wisdom's  soup. 

But  you,  dear  reader,  if  you  prize 
This  wisdom  of  the  truly  wise, 
Will  soon  be  added  to  the  group 
Of  tongues  that  relish  wisdom's  soup. 


i  /i      I  1  A  V' 

TO  OESK  FRQM 


LOAN  DEPT. 


^ 


-5PM 


YB  40586 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


